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Want to be a writer? Expect suffering. Lose your illusions and embrace pain. Writing is not always a glittery unicorn hug, and we don’t get what we wish for, we get what we work for. This profession is not for the faint of heart, namely because 1) it’s hard 2) it’s often under appreciated 3) great writing requires us to expose our soft tender parts and hope no one carves them out with a spork.

I’ve said it before. Just because we have command of our native language in no way qualifies us to create a work of art spanning 50,000 to 100,000 or more words. We need to study, practice, apply what we learn (WRITING), and grow a damn thick skin.

Grow Rhino Skin

No matter how well we write, someone won’t like our stuff. It’s just reality. Ten years ago, I went to my first critique thinking every…

I remember when Sundays were “special days”. You didn’t work. Most stores were not open, families went to church, then had a family dinner, whether at home or off to grandma’s house.
It was a day of rest. Sure there were always the chores, house keeping, mowing the lawn, and fixing the car or making repairs on the house, but it still revolved around being home with the family.
These days it seems everything moves to quickly. It tends to be difficult to live without things at our fingertips.
We forget the spices for a late dinner we are cooking, that’s ok, stores are open 24 hours now!
Can’t remember Mom’s phone number? That’s ok, it is in your phone! (just don’t lose your phone or you are in deep trouble).
That phone is our new life line now. Check your email, watch TV, movies, talk to friends or family without actually having to commit to a real conversation. We really should be in touch better……..something is wrong.
There are so many more people, who lack the ability to socially interact. Young people that have a hard time relating to their “relatives” much less a neighbor or heaven forbid, a teacher.
Would love to bring back some of the simplicities of Sundays past. I know it is not possible but….. A girl can dream, can’t she? What do you miss?